


Rebirth

by AlbaAdler



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Rape Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-10 05:48:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4379606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlbaAdler/pseuds/AlbaAdler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>War, Starks girls, Tarth, what she had been through, everything else that wasn’t that moment was off her mind or lost its importance. She had just reborn, she was alive, she was with Jaime —she was in heaven.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rebirth

**Author's Note:**

> So we have a new story. Remember English is not my first language.  
> Thanks again to Lauralina, who helped me to correct this fic.
> 
> Please let me now what do you think about this story, because I'm thinking in make it a multi-chapter. It all depends on you!

# Rebirth

 

“Brienne?” Jaime’s voice seemed so remote that she had to turn around to be sure he was real and not the wind whispering and toying with her imagination.

The man was standing close to her and watched her frowning, studying her as he do with a wild beast before coming near it with all the necessary precautions.

“Are you all right?” He asked concerned.

She had to struggle to repress the tired sigh that threatened to leave her chest every time he asked the same question. She just nodded, focusing her attention on her bare feet. She took a couple of minutes to dry her short hair, which now almost reach the length it had have a couple of months ago, just before that night when she took her dagger cutting with it tress after tress, so close to the skull that she was close to hurt herself.

The bath she has just taken had left her relaxed and drowsy, though her skin still burned because of the harsh rub she gave it. She wanted to feel clean and with no trace of all the dirt that her body had gathered, but no matter how many baths she took she couldn’t achieve that. A sour and foul smell seemed to have impregnated her skin and she had avoided being close to anybody by a fear of cause more rejection and repugnance than that her mere look already provoked.

Without an invitation, Jaime sat by her side on the bed, so close to her body that she could feel his warmth. The inn was small and they only could get one room. Suddenly she felt anxious and instinctively she got away from him.

“It had been a very long time, you need to talk.”  Gently, he put his hand on her knee and just that inoffensive touch was enough to make her jump, she stood scared in the other side of the room.

Jaime sighed and put his elbows on his knees; she was acting like an idiot, she knew it, but was unable to help it. Shyly she gave a step towards him.

“I’m fine.” She said weakly.

“No, you aren’t and it’s all my fault, Brienne. I’m sorry.” She already had lost count of the number of times that he had asked for forgiveness.

“I’ve told you a thousand times that it wasn’t your fault. You did as much as you could and they almost killed you for that.” She assured him and got back to sit by his side.

“I know I’m not the most suitable person for this, but I’m the only one you have now and I think you cannot leave all this behind until you talk about it.” He took her hand and this time instead of removing it she kept quiet for a moment, enjoying his warm skin.

Brienne closed her eyes tightly. Indeed it had been more than three moons and she still was unable to let someone touch her without feeling short of breath. At the beginning she also had to carry the anxiety of thinking that she may be pregnant with the child of one of those beasts. Exactly forty-seven days had to pass until she could be free of that fear, however, besides some relief her mood didn’t improve. She still felt dirty, and was sure that each time somebody looked at her they would guess what had happened and despised her because she didn’t fight more furiously. She knew everybody would say she had been looking for what happened because the only place for a decent and noble born lady was her home.

She didn’t want to remember because each time it was like living it again, get back to the mud, and she feared that maybe one time she could not get out.

The men —there were seven of them— all had accent from the Valley, but they didn’t look like soldiers, and judging by their organization they were more likely bandits with years of expertise, so when Jaime and she, hiding from the main path and all the curious eyes that they could find there, had gone into the forest and fell straight towards their claws. It had been Jaime’s idea, another reason he had to blame himself, which was stupid because if he hadn’t fight so hard for her he wouldn’t have been beaten so cruelly. How can she blame him when he tried to defend her until his last breath?

When one of the men hit him on the head with his own sword and she watched him fall, she cursed herself for having caused that.

As soon as she was left alone with the men she remembered what Jaime had told her when Vargo’s men had threatened her: escape inside yourself. At the beginning it worked and she put her mind far away in that moment, then the stinky breath of the man made her gagged, and she had to turn her head around and she struggled with the instinct of fighting again to be free or die trying. Then she saw Jaime, he was laying a couple of steps from her, with his neck twisted in a unnatural position, with his eyes closed and a thick thread of blood running by his temple, running through his eyes and when it reached his nose the blood dripped to the ground. He seemed to be crying —with blood tears.

The man she had on top of her didn’t let her move enough to watch him better and she couldn’t tell if he was breathing or not; however, the huge pool of blood under his head did not bode well, there was too much blood. She allowed the man to take over her body, which began to feel alien to her. She focused all her thoughts in the silent prayer she repeated tirelessly to the seven: Please, don’t let him be dead. After each prayer she opened her eyes wishing to find in his inert body a proof of life, but as an answer she just saw the pool of blood grow, drawing a grotesque halo around his head.  The thought that nobody could live after losing so much blood grew stronger as much as her gags.

“I wanted to fight back; I thought that it was better to die fighting. Then I saw that you seemed to be breathing —there was so much blood.” She couldn’t disguise a sob though she didn’t face him. “So I believed that if you could make it you’d be too weak and I couldn’t leave you alone. I let them do with me what they wanted, so I could help you later.

Jaime got close to her and hugged her, shyly first then, after a moment, held her tighter and he even dared to give her a soft kiss on her cheek.

“You did well, Brienne. You are here now. You’re alive, and that’s the most important thing.”

“Three of them said I was so ugly that they had better fuck their horses.” She confessed him while Jaime held firmly her hand. “The other four flipped a coin to decide who will be first. The winner pushed me to the ground with a kick on my stomach and covered my face with his cloak; saying that if he didn’t have to look at me then he wouldn’t have nightmares. All the others began to drink and told me that after a bottle I probably wouldn’t seem so homely.” She couldn’t resist the sobs anymore, she was now resting on his chest and surrounded by his arms. “The next one took the cloak off of me but put me face down, then I saw you were unconscious. The man licked my neck and hair and he smelled like sweat and manure.”

That pestilence got so impregnated in her hair that after a couple of days, she was so desperate by the nausea that she was feeling, that she took her old dagger and cut her hair as short as she could. The nasty smell didn’t go away and instead she became into an awful clown. Jaime didn’t make any comment when he saw her; perhaps because he still was too weak or blaming himself too much, maybe it was just for pity.

“I don’t even remember the others, just their laughs, jokes and their hands touching me as if I was a dirty cloth. Meanwhile I prayed to the gods once and again for you to be alive. I could just focus on that. Before they went away one of them yelled at me that I must be grateful because surely I’ll never again find another man so desperate to try to get into my legs.” She added, her face half hidden in Jaime’s chest. He smelled like freshly cut grass and fresh air. “ I want to forget all that or think about it as a nightmare.”

“You’ll get over it, you’re the strongest wench I ever met and I’m pretty sure this is not going to defeat you.” Jaime assured her while he caressed her hair slowly.

“I’m glad that now I have no chance of getting married.” She bitterly laughed. “I wouldn’t stand to be touched like that again.” She shuddered, feeling dirty again, like that day.

“No, Brienne, what they did to you has nothing to do with what really happens when you are with someone that you love, I guess is not even close to being with someone that you trust and care about, even if it’s only for pleasure.” He took her hand and maybe without realizing started to massage her palm softly. “I have no idea what you are feeling right now, I only have been with one woman and loved her and gave myself to her each time we shared the bed. I’m sorry they took that away from you and turned it into a nightmare, but believe me, when you do it in the right way is one of the best parts of being alive.”

 “I guess I’ll never know.” She whispered so weakly than Jaime almost couldn’t hear her.

They spent a long moment hugged, her convulsive sobs slowly became into quiet tears thanks to Jaime’s soft kisses on her head. When also her tears stopped, Jaime’s lips went slowly towards her cheek, then to her nose and finally made a long pause on the corner of her mouth.

“Do you trust me?” He asked moving away from her a little. She nodded immediately, weakly but with no trace of a doubt.

Jaime got close to her again and kissed her quickly on her lips, and then he kissed her longer with the lips parted accompanied by soft caresses on her cheeks. Step by step, with no detours, until his tongue started to play with hers and his hand traced small circles on her lower back, and after a while he got rid of the robe that cover her.

She didn’t know how much time had passed by, it might have been minutes or hours, it could have been a whole life. Sometime later when he took the next step and caressed her breast or let his hand get dangerously close to her thighs she gasped not knowing if it was mere anticipation or just her poorly repressed shyness, but each new caress or advance was so sweet and tender that her gasps turned into sighs that forced her to yield to him without further resistance. He stroked every tress of her small mane until Brienne was sure it also smelled like fresh grass and was soft by the simple touch of that man. Each part of her body that was touched or kissed by Jaime it felt suddenly clean, pure and renewed. And, by the seven, Jaime didn’t let a spot untouched.

He moved through her body with pious reverence, slow and firm, saying her name once and again as if was a prayer with which he was trying to gain the paradise.

War, Starks girls, Tarth, what she had been through, everything else that wasn’t that moment was off her mind or lost its importance. She had just reborn, she was alive, she was with Jaime —she was in heaven.

 

“You, wench,” he told her hoarsely when finally got inside her, “you’re quite a woman!”

And overjoyed, Brienne believed him.

 

She couldn’t remember the moment she fell sleep, but when she opened the eyes the sun was prying through her window and a couple of noisy birds urgently announce that it was time to wake up. Jaime’s arm rested on her waist and could feel his breath on her nape. She didn’t move afraid of waking him up, she wanted to extend the moment as much as she could, stretch it if possibly for an eternity.

A few minutes passed by, but when she was about to yield to the sleep again she felt soft and warm lips going over her naked skin.

“So, my lady, is the experience still so disgusting to you?”

Unbelievably, Brienne was unable to suppress a smile. She turned around to face him. In spite of her missing and crooked teeth, her freckle and marred face, Jaime looked at her content and satisfied.

“No.” She mumbled kissing his forehead.

“Forget all that happened before, wench. Think of this as your first time.” He kissed her quickly on the lips before he continue. “Although I could bet my remaining hand that it won’t be the last.” His fingers caressed her back with nice and constant movements while his stump went across her hip’s curve as trying to memorize the path.

Then, looking at his green eyes full with that now she could identify as lust, she was overcome with a doubt.

“Is very different when you do it for love an not just for pleasure?” She asked, not knowing if she was ready for the answer.

“I don’t know, wench; I have never been with a woman that I didn’t love.”

Maybe because of all her bad experiences, she was slow to understand the meaning of his words, but when she did it the feeling was so warm and sweet that she got a knob on her throat and had to bit her lip to convince herself she wasn’t dreaming. Never before she had feel so close to anyone as at that moment she was with that man. Her man, her Jaime, to whom she has entrusted her life dozen of times, to whom she had just entrusted her damaged body —why not trust him with her heart too?

“Jaime?”

“Mmmhh?” he barely got distracted from the soft kisses he was given on her shoulder.

“I love you too.”

“I know.”


End file.
